Alasdair clasped his wrist hard. “How do you know all of that?”
“I don’t know. But I know,” he answered, hating that his voice wavered. Leo winced as Alasdair rose to his full height, making it impossible for him to do anything but stand. “Where are we going?”
“Be quiet.” Alasdair strode towards a side door, where he flicked a light on.
Inside was a large bathroom with a tub, a shower, and a basin. As they entered, the door whooshed shut behind them without any assistance.
More freaky vampire shit.
Alasdair reached into the shower and turned it on, and as the water rained down on the tiles below, he faced him and removed his clothes.
Leo’s mouth fell open, and he took a step back until his ass bumped into the sink.
“What are you doing?” Leo immediately wanted to take the words back. Obviously, he’s taking a shower, idiot. It just seemed like such a…human thing to do.
Alasdair remained silent as he peeled his shirt from his body and tossed it aside. The hard expanse of his skin came into view, and Leo had to bite his lower lip to keep a sigh of pleasure from leaving him. He wondered if that skin was as smooth as it appeared—or as hard, for that matter.
When Alasdair’s hand went to the button on his pants, Leo was horrified to find himself hoping, above all else, including his short time left in the world, he would unbutton them and push them off his hips. And when he did, Leo’s breath caught in his throat.
He’d seen Alasdair naked that time in Vasilios’s bedroom, but he’d been too overwhelmed to really look at him. That was not the case now. His eyes trailed down the ridges of his cut abdominal muscles to the thick thighs free of any hair. The cock jutting out towards Leo like a fucking arrow was impressive, long, and thick. The veins running its length made him want to get down on his knees and trace them with his tongue, and when Alasdair stood back up, he pinned him with a stare so effective it felt as though he had his hands on him.
You will stay here. Do not try to leave or you will regret it.
The voice in his head was the same as it had always been, but there was a certain edge to it now. One he hadn’t heard from Alasdair since the first night they’d met. It both frightened and excited him.
“Tonight’s the night, isn’t it? You’re actually going to do it. Kill me.”
It wasn’t a question, which was probably for the best. Because what he got in response wasn’t an answer but a clear declaration of fact.
“Yes. I am.”
ALASDAIR BACKED AWAY from Leo before he did something stupid. Stupid as in tear his clothes off and fuck him against the bathroom wall.
When Leo had barged into Thanos’s room earlier, Alasdair had thought he’d imagined him. He’d been thinking of him, and then, like some kind of warped apparition, he’d appeared. But when Vasilios and the others had also noticed him, Alasdair had known he was real.
Real and about to be very dead if he hadn’t been able to hold Vasilios off.
As soon as Leo had fled the room, Alasdair’s mind had gone into overdrive trying to think of ways to stave off the homicidal urge coursing through his sire. His best bet, as far as he’d seen, had been the promise to do it himself.
Leo was a threat to him and everyone he knew, but the thought of being the one to end his life troubled Alasdair more than he cared to admit. He’d pushed that aside, though, and swore to Vasilios that, by dawn, Leonidas Chapel would be dead.
“I know you don’t want to do this.”
Leo’s voice cut into his thoughts, and the conviction in those words would’ve amused him several days ago. But the truth of the matter was, Leo was right—he didn’t want to do this.
Two hands on his back shoved at him, trying to get some kind of a reaction. Alasdair was too quick for him, though, and he pivoted to grasp one of Leo’s wrists. He yanked Leo inside the shower with him, and the wet material of his clothes stuck to Alasdair’s naked chest, cock, and thighs. Then Alasdair closed his eyes and brought Leo’s arm up to his nose to take the scent of him deep into his lungs.
As appealing as ever, Leo’s blood called to him, and Alasdair rubbed his shaft over the soaked fabric of Leo’s pants. He’d wanted this man since the first night he’d seen him, and Alasdair wasn’t sure if that was due to who Leo was or what he was—and that galled him as much as his inability to let him go.
The rapid pounding of Leo’s heart was steady and strong, and it made him long to taste the blood pulsing through his veins. But that urge would get him killed, and he happened to be fond of his immortality, which, up until recently, he’d never thought to question.
“If you were going to kill me,” Leo whispered, “you would’ve done it already.”
Alasdair muscled him back to the wall of the tiled shower. Leo’s ass hit it first and then his shoulder blades before he lifted his head and his light eyes collided with his.
“I’m biding my time,” he said. “I have until dawn.” Then he watched in fascination as Leo’s tongue came out to swipe at the moisture that’d gathered on his lower lip.
“Until dawn?” Leo asked, and Alasdair found the tremble in his voice extremely arousing. “Then what? You turn into a pumpkin?”
Leaning in until their noses touched, Alasdair whispered, “No. Then, if I don’t do it, Vasilios will.”
When Leo’s mouth fell open, Alasdair knew he was done denying his hunger—the sexual one, anyway. If he only had until dawn, then he was going to take Leo any way he could get him.
He swooped in and pressed their lips together. When Leo’s hands clutched at his biceps, Alasdair thought he was about to push him away, but he didn’t. He groaned into his mouth instead and bucked his hips forward.
Yes. Let me in, Leonidas, he shoved into Leo’s head, and once Leo’s eyes had shut and he’d replied, Yes, Alasdair thrust his tongue between his lips.
LEO WAITED FOR that inevitable moment when the light would come. When a memory would hit and he would be torn away from the sinful pleasure of Alasdair devouring his mouth. But when nothing happened, he pushed aside past experiences, forgot what he’d been told of his future, and held on to the muscles pressing him against the tiles here and now.
It felt unbelievable to be at the mercy of this male. Alasdair’s body was like granite. Literally hard as a stone all over, and just as cool. His hair was slicked back off his face, and the water sluiced from his dark head over his high cheekbones to trail down his neck. He was stunning, and even if he was the angel of death calling on him this final night of his life, Leo couldn’t find it in him to care.
When Alasdair took a step back and lifted his head, his fangs appeared, and all Leo could think was, deadly…he’s so fucking deadly, but so damn hot. He stepped forward from the wall, determined to touch what would inevitably kill him. He wanted to trace the polished surfaces of his canines and then run the pad of his finger over the pointed tips.
The growl that rumbled from Alasdair’s throat made Leo aware that he was just fine with the idea running through his mind.
As he continued making his way towards him, he thought, Yeah, come on, Alasdair. I’m not afraid of you. Not anymore.
He’d decided to go with what he was feeling. And right now, he was aroused and fascinated with the male watching him.